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A week later, Steve, Dora, Ron and Slugger were sitting around the breakfast table. Ron had an edition of the Tockwith Bugle in his hand, his attention taken by the front page article dealing with the revelations about the butcher shop formerly known as Master's Continental Meats.

"Hey.....it says 'ere they caught those two goons that held you and Dora captive," he told them, one hand reaching out for his mug of tea.

"Thank god," breathed Dora, exchanging a quick glance with Steve.

"It says they were caught trying to rob a petrol station two counties over," Ron continued, picking up a slice of buttered toast and munching, his eyes never leaving the paper.

"What about the butcher...Mr.Masters?" asked Slugger, reaching across the table for the pot of tea.

"Still on the loose according to this. Appears he managed to elude our boys in blue and is still 'at large',"

"Do they say where they think he's gone ?" asked Steve, ignoring his breakfast for the moment.

"Doesn't say......'the police are continuing with their enquires' is all it says....they've published a mug shot of the man, ugly looking brute he is too."

Seeing Steve's expression, Dora bit her lip, glancing anxiously at Ron. Realising the direction of her thoughts, Steve covered her hand with his, giving it a quick squeeze.

"He's not likely to come here Dora, he'll be miles away by now,"

Looking up from his paper, Ron nodded agreement. "He'll be halfway to Scotland girl, with the fuzz hot on his tail."

"Still, no harm in being cautious," said Slugger, his lined face concerned. "Maybe you should sleep in the house for awhile Steve,"

Surprised, but touched by his concern, Steve shook his head. "I'd feel happier sleeping with the horses Slugs. To be on hand, so to speak."

A moment later Slugger pushed himself to his feet and picked up his plate,"Well then, if everyone has finished mauling their breakfast, you'd better be off and seein' to those perishers out there,"

Steve and Dora left the room while Ron fussed over folding the paper before tucking it under his arm.

"I reckon we haven't heard the last of all this, me 'ol mate," he told Slugger before getting to his feet and sauntering out of the room.

"For once Ron, I think you're right," muttered Slugger, clucking his tongue before reaching for the dirty dishes.

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It was the weekend and Dora pushed the gate shut after their last visitor for the day. It had been unusually busy, more so since the article about their involvement with the butcher and his trade in horsemeat. The outcry had been enormous with people inundating the local doctors with requests to be tested for parasites and a little known disease called Trichinellosis. The local health authority had assured the community that the possibility of an outbreak was unlikely if not downright impossible, but it didn't entirely convince everyone. Still, it had been two weeks and there hadn't been any sign of the main suspect, Henry Masters. The butcher's shop had been thoroughly cleared out and nearly all the stolen horses returned to their owners except two, who currently shared a stall at Follyfoot, one being a particular favourite of Ron's.

With a final wave, Dora turned to go and collect the lead ropes before going out to round up the horses in the big paddock. She paused beside the donkey pen and fed them some horse nuts before filling a bucket from the trough and watering the broken tree beside their pen. For two years she'd been faithfully watering the roots of the tree, in the faint hope that life was still in evidence behind the damaged branches and scorched bark. She looked up to give the familiar pattern of twisted twigs an affectionate look but remained there transfixed, her head tilted back, the bucket falling from her fingers to clatter on the ground. Steve came out of the barn with a full load of hay and saw Dora standing there, her face upturned to the tree.

"What happened, did the wind change and you got stuck like that ?" he teased, dropping the handles of the wheelbarrow so that it banged on the cobbles. The sound seemed to jerk Dora out of her glance and she looked over at Steve. Slowly her arm raised and she extended a finger to point skyward. Totally mystified, Steve walked over, frowning at Dora's expression. He followed the direction of her pointing finger and looked up at the branches of the lightning tree. On a thin twig at the end of one of the blasted branches was a tiny sprig of green.

"It's happened Steve, its finally happened," Dora exclaimed, a smug smile curving her lips.

"Well I never, all your bucketing paid off girl,"

"It's a miracle Steve, everyone said it would never bloom again, but they were wrong," Dora leant against the rough tree and wrapped her arms about it, hugging it fiercely. "They were wrong, there is life in you, there always was," she whispered into the bark.

"Dreams do come true, you've said it often enough, now here's your proof," murmured Steve, reaching out a hand to touch the tree trunk.

"Oh I must tell Slugger," said Dora suddenly, pushing away from the tree to run over to the cottage leaving Steve gazing after her.

"Yeah, dreams do come true," he whispered to himself.

Ron came out of one of the stalls and swaggered over to his bike, pulling on his leather gloves before fixing his sunglasses in place. Swinging a leg over he switched on the ignition before putting his foot on the pedal.

"Catcha' tomorrow," he called out before kicking down, the bike's engine roaring into life. "Open the gate would ya'"

Steve shook his head, no matter how many times they told Ron not to ride his bike in the yard he blithely ignored every one. Walking over to the gate, Steve pulled it wide to allow Ron to roar past, the exhaust making him cough for a second. Ron gave a cheery wave and disappeared in a noisy cloud of dust through the farm gate and down the driveway.

Dora appeared in the doorway of the cottage, tugging on Sluggers arm to get him to move faster. Steve held the gate open for her to pull Slugger through, exchanging an amused glance with the old man as he trotted after the determined Dora.

"There.....see ?" she pointed upwards and Slugger dutifully sighted along her arm, squinting into the sky.

"Oh....yeah....I see," he said carefully, pushing back his woollen cap to scratch. Then he peered a little closer and this time a broad smile creased his lined face and he turned to Dora, his expression mirroring hers. "I do see, its sprouting, after all this time, the flamin' tree is sprouting!"

Dora couldn't contain herself any longer and flung herself at Slugger, hugging him and dancing around at the same time. Steve laughed at her sheer joy, coming over to watch but instead found himself also the recipient of an enthusiastic hug and being pulled into an impromptu jig together with Slugger.

"Hey slow down, these 'ol legs won't take much more of this," complained Slugger, puffing slightly. He found the discarded bucket and turned it over, sitting down heavily. Watching from his perch he laughed as Dora and Steve linked arms and circled around, first one way then the other until they were breathless and flushed. At the end Dora pulled Steve into another hug, which this time he returned with interest, their previous laughter suddenly gone, smothered by more intense feelings as their awareness of each other took over. Slugger watched indulgently, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

"Hey, come on you two, lets get those 'orses in, its nearly tea time and I don't want my stew to get ruined,"

Pulling apart, Dora turned away to collect the lead, while Steve busied himself putting the wheelbarrow to one side, out of the way. Together they went out to the field and caught the half a dozen horses peacefully grazing in the long shadows of the rapidly setting sun.

After tea Steve left Dora and Slugger in the kitchen, telling them he had some letters to write. Walking across the yard he stopped to pick up the discarded bucket by the donkey pen, pausing to look up at the branch that was now hidden by darkness, its burgeoning greenery invisible against the overcast sky. Smiling he dumped the bucket by the trough and started to work his way down the stables, opening the half doors to check on the horses and ponies bedded down for the night. With a last look around he entered the bottom stall and closed the half door behind him, leaving the top open. Turning around he leant his arms on the wooden ledge and stood there for a moment, looking out and breathing in the scents and sounds of the sleeping farm, his thoughts turning to Dora.

Since their rescue, they'd kept their distance, behaving the same as they had before the kiss, before their night together. He didn't know how to bridge the distance, despite the many small gestures and glances that told him Dora hadn't forgotten any of it, any more than he had. The farm and horses occupied nearly all of their waking hours, the only time alone being their rides out to exercise their horses, and there they steered carefully away from bringing up anything that would inflame their emotions or create an intimate setting. It frustrated the hell out of him, but he didn't want to push Dora, waiting for her to set the pace and tell him when she was ready to move forward. At this rate they'd be no further forward whether it was a year on or ten years on. Today's hug had reminded them of how thin the layer of restraint that stifled their mutual attraction and natural expression of their feelings for each other. With a sigh Steve pulled the top door closed, shutting out the night sky and his view of the cottage, the lights beckoning to him to return to the cosy kitchen and Dora's company. He had things to do and he'd put them off long enough.

Dora was thumbing through a thick encyclopedia of Horse Care and Management that she often referred to for advice on some of the more baffling situations that arose with the horses in their care. Slugger had been washing the dishes out the back room and entered the kitchen with a towel slung over his shoulder.

"Getting late girl, time you were off to bed," he admonished, reaching down to poke at the fire still burning in the grate.

"Oh its not that late Slugs....anyway, I thought I'd go and say goodnight to Copper, he missed out on a ride this afternoon because of that stone he picked up yesterday. I don't want him to think I'm ignoring him."

"Oh yeah....goodnight to Copper.....of course," murmured Slugger, clucking his tongue in disbelief. "We wouldn't want poor Copper to feel left out, now would we,"

Dora only looked at him under her lashes, sure that the blush creeping up her neck was giving her away. Clutching the book to her chest she got up and walked out, putting the book back in the office and grabbing her coat before stepping out the front door, her face once more cool and calm, despite her heart starting to jump about in her chest. Slugger was altogether too sharp, thought Dora, closing the small cottage gate behind her before crossing the driveway to the big white gate leading into the farmyard. Looking up as she opened it, she noted the clear skies and bright stars winking down at her. She was going to say goodnight to Copper, just as she'd told Slugger, but if she happened to say goodnight to Steve as well, why shouldn't she.

Walking up to Copper's door, she slipped the latch and pulled open the top door, a wave of warmth and smell of horse wafting out to her. "Hello Copper, how's my beautiful boy," she crooned, seeing Coppers ears flick back and forth at the sound of her voice. Opening the bottom door she slipped inside and ran her hand down his sleek flank, patting him as she approached his neck and head. "You are beautiful you know, and tomorrow we'll be able to have a gentle ride. I'm sorry I've neglected you today but that bruise had to heal, and we did have a great run on Friday," she continued talking to her horse, his head turning to follow her as she checked his water and feed before coming back to rest her head against his neck. "Did I tell you about the tree? Its finally putting out some leaves, isn't that wonderful?" Copper blew on her shoulder in reply, his thick lips nibbling her coat collar. With a final pat Dora left the stall, closing the half doors behind her. Pulling her coat together she walked down the length of the stables until she reached the door leading into the stalls below Steve's loft. She paused for a second, her heart starting to quicken in anticipation. She'd purposely kept a distance between herself and Steve, not ready to repeat what had happened after the dance. Now there was nothing she wanted more than to see if those extraordinary and wonderful sensations could be recreated in more prosaic surroundings, without all the fears and uncertainty and audience of the previous encounter. Smiling to herself she sucked in a lungful of cool night air and lifted the latch.

"Steve...can I come up ?"

"Sure, if you don't mind a mess,"

While Dora started up the stairs, Steve quickly tidied up the small area that made up his bedroom and living space. A sea of scrunched up paper surrounded his wastepaper bin and he scrabbled to pick them all up and toss them in. As Dora reached the top of the stairs he stood up hurriedly, finger combing his hair away from his face and tugging at his shirt, tucking it in hurriedly.

"Hi,"

"Hi yourself," he smiled, waving her over to sit on the edge of his bed. Dora did so, surprised so feel so self-conscious in Steve's presence. Swallowing, she looked around and noticed a couple of screws of paper that Steve had missed. Looking up she smiled shyly at him.

"How's the letter writing going ?"

"Oh......um, slowly.....I'm writing to my Aunt, trying to explain what's been happening in the last month or so."

"Oh."

"I'm not sure how much I should tell her, I don't want to upset her..."

"I can see that might be a problem," Dora agreed, fidgeting a little with the buttons down her coat front. "I didn't know what to put in my letter to my parents either. If I told them what really happened they'd whisk me out of here before I could turn around," she laughed, "it's hard to make mucking out sound interesting."

Steve smiled back at her, relaxing as he acknowledge to himself that Dora was probably as nervous as he was.

"We could tell them about your tree, I suppose, that's bound to fill atleast two or three lines,"

"Or we could tell them about Sluggers Saturday morning riding lessons, that's sure to fill at least a paragraph," Dora added, smiling at the memory of Slugger in his bowler hat, directing the younger members of his regular riders with a long, impressive coaching whip. Steve laughed softly with her.

"Of course, there's always Ron to provide a ready fund of anecdotes," Dora continued as Steve walked over and sat down beside her. "I'm sure if you told them about his exploits you'd run out of ink before you finished,"

"Yes, that's definitely a possibility," agreed Steve, his gaze now fixed on Dora's face, his voice barely above a murmur. Dora glanced sideways at him, noting his intense interest in mapping her features.

"You're staring," she accused, a smile taking the sting out of her words. Steve only smiled back, his dark eyes drinking in her blush.

"Am I ?...do you want me to stop ?"

"I don't know,"

"Look at me Dora," he commanded softly, making her suck in a breath and lift her eyes to his. For the next few moments she drowned in his eyes, time seeming to stop as they sat in the dusty loft, the light from the lantern casting a golden glow over their small corner of the room.

"I came to say goodnight," Dora whispered, running a nervous tongue over her dry lips.

"Goodnight Dora," Steve whispered back, leaning in and touching his lips briefly to hers. They both pulled back a fraction after the first tenuous contact, Dora sure that she was about to burst, her heart hammering in her chest as if to escape.

Steve smiled slightly, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, his long fingers stroking the soft peach of her skin. "Give me your hand Dora," he asked, instantly feeling her small hand slip into his. He brought it up and held it against his chest so that she could feel his own heart beating erratically beneath his shirt. "That's how you make me feel,"

Under her fingertips Dora felt Steve's heart pounding, his body warm under her palm. Once more Steve leaned in and their lips met and this time held, Dora's honey coloured eyes sliding shut under the onslaught of sensation, her fingers clutching at his shirt front. Steve moved his hand from her cheek around to the back of her head, angling it to deepen the kiss. Dora felt boneless, her limbs melting in a flood of longing. This was what it felt like to love and be loved.

Eventually they drew apart, Steve drawing in a ragged breath while Dora rested her forehead against his and gulped in much needed air.

"Aw mate," breathed Steve, his eyes drinking in Dora's kiss swollen lips and flushed face. Shifting slightly, he pulled Dora's head to his shoulder where she rested, eyes closed and still breathing raggedly, clutching his shirt front as if she never wanted to let go.

"If you're going to kiss me like that, I'll never get any work done around here," he teased softly, feeling Dora smile against his neck.

"I didn't know.....I didn't know it could be like that,"

"Haven't you.....I mean, didn't you have any boyfriends in London?"

"No.....never.......never been kissed like that before," Dora answered drowsily, nuzzling closer. Steve tightened his arm around her shoulders and squeezed, his expression just a little self-satisfied, his eyes looking over the top of her head, unfocussed as he considered her answer.

Dora glanced up and saw his distant expression which, as she moved to sit up, quickly focussed back on her, his intensely dark eyes sweeping over her face.

"Where were you ?" she asked softly, reaching up a tentative finger to trace the strong outlines of his mouth. When she reached the center he placed a kiss on her fingertip.

"Just thinking that I didn't have to worry about any past boyfriends coming down from London to steal you away from me,"

"Oh....I see, so am I likely to trip over any of your 'old girlfriends' in the near future ?" Dora asked archly, her eyes turning from liquid honey to rich toffee as she traced a finger over his eyebrows.

"No,"

"What about Wendy ?" Dora persisted, her errant fingertip sliding down his cheek and tracing his jawline. She felt the muscle in his jaw jump under the skin, her eyes flicking up to meet his, his hand coming up to pull hers away from his face.

"She didn't really want me, she was just a spoilt little girl who had to have every male she meets dancing to her tune. There was nothing in it...there was only ever you,"

"Oh Steve,"

Deciding that there had been enough chat, Steve covered her mouth once more with his and spent a pleasurable few minutes re-introducing Dora to his passionate side, almost bringing her to the brink of fainting with sheer want. At the end of the kiss Dora had both arms clamped around his neck and they had fallen back onto the bed cover, Steve leaning over her and ravishing her mouth, lost to the world outside the stable loft. At a break in their embrace, Dora tried to compose a sentence but got distracted when Steve traced small kisses from her eyelids down to her lips, pausing to nibble on her lower lip before kissing his way down her jaw to her neck, pushing aside her coat collar for better access. Her skin tingling, Dora arched her neck, her fingers burrowing through his thick hair. Finally she tugged at his head and he broke off, gazing at her questioningly.

"I should be getting back.....to the cottage." She explained, her flushed face and swollen mouth making it hard for him to concentrate on her words. "Slugger will wonder what's keeping me,"

"Slugger ?" Steve queried as if he'd never heard the name before, his lips covering hers again.

Dora let him have his way for a few seconds before tugging again.

"Yes, Slugger.....you don't want him coming over here looking for me, do you ?"

She saw Steve's brows knit together in a frown and she giggled, "You do know who Slugger is, don't you ?"

"Very funny," growled Steve, giving her a hard kiss before reluctantly rolling onto his back, releasing her completely and lying there one arm covering his eyes as he fought to get his bodies reactions under control. Dora hitched herself onto one elbow and looked down at him, her lips twitching into a smile.

"You'll be the death of me Dora," Steve groaned, lifting his arm and scorching her with a look.

"Then I'll just have to find more excuses to visit the stables in the evenings," she retorted, sitting up and running unsteady fingers through her hair to get it back into an assemblance of order.

Getting to her feet she walked over to the loft window and peered out, taking in the lights still on over at the cottage. Behind her Steve rose as well, the old bed protesting at the previous assault on its ancient springs. She saw his reflection approach her and felt his arms come around to hold her about her shoulders, her back against his chest, her chin coming to rest on his forearm as they stared at each others reflection in the window glass mirror.

"I love you Dora," he declared quietly, his eyes meeting hers in the window.

Smiling knowingly, Dora turned in his embrace and faced him.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say those words,"

Placing her hands on his face, Dora reached up and kissed him softly, her lips only clinging to his for a moment before pulling back.

"I have to go. I'll see you at breakfast,"

Reluctantly Steve let his arms drop, watching as Dora walked to the head of the stairs before turning back, her eyes hidden by the shadows.

"I love you too Steve, I think I always have,"

At her simple words, something burst inside Steve's chest and flooded his whole body with warmth. His battered and bruised heart, so closely guarded and cruelly wounded by his mother, was finally whole.

"See you at breakfast Dora, sleep well,"

He watched as she turned and made her way down the stairs, the sound of her footsteps clear in the still night, the click of the stable door the final note before he flung himself down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, his memory replaying every moment as a smile stretched his face to breaking point.

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He suddenly jerked awake, his whole body taut as a bow string. His eyes told him it was still dark outside, the temperature in the loft confirming his assumption that dawn was still a long way off. Consciously relaxing his limbs and breathing deeply, he tried to figure out what had pulled him out of a perfectly good dream. A faint sound drew his attention and he tilted his head in an effort to catch it again. Completely awake now he dry washed his face, rubbing his eyes and hooking his hands behind his head. For several seconds he luxuriated in the memory of Dora's version of saying goodnight, but another faint sound jerked him out of his reverie and he frowned as he tried to capture what was making the noises in the stable below. He had slept above them long enough to know every sound the old building made as well as the horses sleeping in their stalls below him. This sound didn't fit any off those criteria. Annoyed at himself for being unable to ignore it and go back to sleep, Steve turned onto his side and swung his legs out of bed, his toes shrinking from the cold floorboards. Moonlight was gleaming weakly through his window, giving him enough light to find his boots and jacket. Pulling them on he rose to his feet, stretching to relax the kinks, and walked to the head of the stairs, peering down into the gloom of the dark stalls below. Chinks of moonlight pierced the darkness as he descended the stairs cautiously, his ears straining for any indication of movement below. In his pocket was a torch which he pulled out when he reached the bottom of the stair, the small beam splashing off the whitewashed stone walls and straw strewn floor. The gleam of light reflections told him that he wasn't the only one awake as several head lifted to watch his progress down through the stable.

He peered into some of the stall, his torch casting deep shadows around the warm bodies covered with blankets. Coming to the conclusion that he had imagined the whole thing, Steve turned to go back to bed, bowing his head and reaching up a hand to rake through his sleep mussed hair and rub the back of his neck. It was this simple gesture that saved him from having his head split open when the heavy branch swung towards his head out of the darkness. Instead of catching him full on the side of his face the branch glanced off the top of his head, across the back of his hand, swinging him around with its force and dropping him to the floor like a stone, his torch rolling away to spin to a halt on the cold stones, its beam only lighting up one hand lying open and still upon the scattered straw.

The figure that stepped out of the shadows looked drawn from the pages of a horror novel, his face lined and dirty, a weeks growth of beard hiding his chin and cheeks, his eyes black pitiless holes. He extended one foot and kicked the body on the floor, his weapon still upraised in case his victim stirred. His caution was unwarranted, Steve lay at his feet unmoving. Bending down the man picked up the torch and played it over the body, lingering for a moment on the pale face before switching it off and plunging the stalls once more into utter blackness.

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Dora clattered down the stairs, tugging at the jumper to get it over her head before entering the kitchen.

"Morning Slugger,"

"Morning girl, sleep well ?"

Dora shot him a quick look before accepting his inquiry at face value and flashing him a small smile. "Great thank you. Steve not up yet ?"

"Apparently not, as you can see, I'm sure," said Slugger, sweeping an arm out to indicate the empty places at the table. "Unless he's hiding in the teapot," he teased, lifting the lid and peering inside. Dora laughed, going to perch on the window ledge as Slugger carried the kettle over and poured boiling water into the teapot. The morning appeared fine, if cold and Dora chafed as Slugger arranged the mugs and poured them out. Casting an eye over her, Slugger held out a mug, noting her quick smile of thanks.

"Bit on edge this morning ?"

Dora cast him an innocent look before shaking her head, pursing her lips to blow on her mug before attempting to sip the scalding brew.

Slugger only chuckled, pouring another mug before pushing it towards her.

"In that case you can take this out to sleeping beauty and tell him to get his great carcass out of bed and back here for breakfast,"

Putting her own down on the ledge, Dora jumped off the ledge and reached for the mug, cradling it in her hands before walking out of the kitchen and opening the front door. Slugger watched from the window as she picked her way through the gate into the farmyard, the steam from the tea curling up into the crisp morning air. He continued his vigil until she disappeared into the stable then he turned away, the smell of bacon calling him to the skillet being licked by flames on the kitchen fire.

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"Steve, you awake ?"

Dora waited for a reply, frowning when none was forthcoming. She stood with one foot on the bottom step, looking up expectantly.

"Steve, I'm coming up, I hope you're decent," she called again, her lips tilting into a smile. As she reached the top of the stairs she saw the shape of a body in the bed and she flashed back to finding Sarah in Steve bed, chuckling when she remembered her very unladylike reaction. "Hey Steve, come on, half the mornings gone and Slugger's getting impatient,"

As she reached for the corner of the quilt a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist making her gasp and drop the mug which seemed to fall in slow motion, smashing to pieces on the floor, spraying scalding tea in all directions. Looking down in shock at the hand Dora registered that the nails were broken and dirty, not at all like Steve's which he kept scrupulously clean. As she found herself pulled off balance and falling towards the floor, the covers of the bed exploded outwards and a figure leapt from Steve's bed looking like a wildman. Dora screamed.

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